The Art of Appreciation
by Fire'CxO'Ice
Summary: Becca learns a valuable lesson from an unlikely source. B/M friendship.


_A/N: Forgive the typos or errors in formatting, I'm submitting this via iPad so I'm not sure how well it will turn out. Takes place after the first novel, Storm. Enjoy! :)_

_The Art of Appreciation_

Becca slowly crept down the stairs, one hand rubbing at her bleary, sleep-filled eyes. She made her way into the kitchen without causing a ruckus, the bright morning sun greeting her as it flooded the room, streams of light coming from the windows by the sink. God, it was way too early for this.

But she'd made a commitment, and if she ever wanted to pay Bill back for the car he'd "given" her, she was gonna need every job she could get. She hated owing him anything.

Still. 7:30 on a Saturday? It was borderline torture.

As quietly as possible, Becca opened the fridge, pulling out a jug of orange juice and a bag of fresh apples. Her mom had only just gotten home, looking beyond tired, with that haunted look in her eyes that said tonight had been one of the bad ones. She'd looked mildly surprised to see her daughter already awake and fully dressed, popping her head briefly into the bathroom where she was brushing her teeth to mumble a good morning. Then she'd slumped into her bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.

Sometimes, when she had bad nights, Becca's mom would leave the door open and Becca would come in and snuggle up beside her under the covers and they would talk about it. But a closed door meant she didn't want any company. She was too proud to let anyone see her at her most vulnerable. Becca had that in spades.

She was pretty sure her mom had fallen asleep by now, but just to be on the safe side, she tried to be as quiet as possible. She snagged a couple pieces of bread, not bothering with the toaster, before sitting down at the counter with her glass of orange juice. The warmth from the sun tickled her skin, whispering to her, calling her out to play. Today there wasn't much of a breeze, but if she concentrated hard enough, even the wind seemed to speak to her, the air around her promising to heed her every word, if she would only talk back.

How had she never noticed this before? The temptation had surely always been there, even before she knew what she was. So why hadn't she felt it? Or acted on it? Even her father had known before her. Why had it taken so long to surface?

Not like it really mattered. She knew now, and so far she hadn't done anything too special. She could channel her power and control into the Merricks, but what about when she was alone? Would she ever be able to use the elements to protect herself?

Jack of all trades, master of none. Seemed appropriate.

But that wasn't exactly true. She was a fifth, which meant her affinity was Spirit. Hunter had told her that as a fifth, she had a whole arsenal of special abilities. One of them was a keen sense of the people around her; she was supposed to be able to "feel" where people were, and even who they were, if she was strong enough. It was easiest with the Merrick brothers, probably because they were all full-blown elementals; she'd been able to tell the Merrick twins apart completely by accident, Nick being the wind expert while his brother was partial to flames. Sometimes at school she just knew, without being able to explain how or why, where the three younger brothers were, though Michael was way too far out of her skill range for her to even try. She needed training, some way to practice her skills so that she would get stronger.

And that gave her an idea.

Sitting at the counter, she closed her eyes, reaching out, trying to pinpoint her mom's exact location. She already knew where she was, but that was sort of the point. She had to start off simple, to figure out how this whole thing even worked before she could branch out with more difficult challenges.

It turned out to be surprisingly easy. One minute she was thinking about her mom, sleeping in her room, and the next... She could feel it, her mother's presence in the back of her mind, like someone had put a little "Destination" pin in her brain that marked her exact location.

Her head was her own personal google maps app.

She could sense her mother was asleep on her side, that she was breathing slowly, her heart thudding gently in her chest. She was dreaming. She didn't exactly know how she knew...But she did.

"Wow.." she whispered to herself, a soft breath of sound that filled the silent kitchen. If that had been so easy, then maybe... Maybe she could push herself a little more. If she had a vague idea of where to look, maybe it wasn't so difficult at all.

She took a sip of orange juice, clearing her head. Pushing her mom from her mind, she directed her thoughts elsewhere...To a small residential area just north of the fire station. To a big blue house, with gorgeous landscaping and a well-used basketball net in the driveway. To four people, four simple human beings who had once just "been", who were now... friends. Brothers.

Family?

Somewhere along the way, they'd stopped being the Merrick brothers and started being her brothers.

And just like that, she could feel them. Three people scattered about the front yard, their heart rates slightly elevated, breathing a little harder than usual. Becca smiled; they'd started without her. She pushed more, narrowing her concentration to focus on one of them at a time. She could feel the exertion he was putting into his work, but somehow he was still full of energy. He was enjoying himself, laughing as he easily lifted two heavy bags of fertilizer into his arms, the heat of the sun giving him a boost of strength. Showoff, she thought to herself. This was Gabriel. They were loading the truck, so Michael had to be there, checking things off and making sure they didn't screw up. She could feel Chris too, his presence a soothing stream along her senses, which left only one other. Nick must be the one picking her up then, and he'd already left if she could only sense three people in the yard.

She opened her eyes, bringing her mind back to her own little kitchen, one hand still wrapped gently around her glass of juice. She'd done it! A burst of pride filled her and she almost laughed aloud, before she remembered where she was. Her mom needed her rest; waking up to her daughter laughing all by herself probably wouldn't give her any peace. Still, she allowed herself a prideful grin, scarfing down the last of her toast before she jumped up, putting her dishes in the sink. She almost forgot the apples in her haste to leave, doubling back to grab them before heading for the front foyer. If he'd already left, Nick would be here any minute. She pulled on her sneakers and snagged her fall jacket from the coat rack, pulling her arms absently through its sleeves. Maybe she could try to find him on the road; that would be an even bigger challenge since she didn't have an idea of his exact location. She did know the route off by heart now, though, so it wouldn't be too difficult. She closed her eyes-

-Rap, rap-rap.

Becca jumped, nearly letting out a squeal that would wake half the neighbourhood. Damn. Her abilities weren't so hot after all if she hadn't even sensed him on her doorstep. She needed more practice.

Giving her heart a chance to settle, she finished zipping up her coat before unlocking the door and pulling it open, a greeting already halfway out her lips.

"Hey Nick," she whispered, "My mom's sleeping so- Oh."

Michael Merrick was standing on her porch, sporting his usual look; worn, ratty t-shirt, faded jeans and bare feet. She couldn't help the smile that crept up her face; the guy refused to wear shoes, like, 90% of the time. He had his own unique scent about him, too; a mix of fresh dirt, grass, nature that she could smell even from the doorway.

"You said you needed a ride." He stated, taking in her surprise with a blank look. She peered behind him; sure enough, the twins' car was parked in the driveway. She'd never seen him drive anything but the truck before.

"Uh, yeah." She blurted, still standing in the doorway. "I sort of just assumed...The twins usually..." She trailed off, realizing how stupid she sounded. He was still looking at her like she was an idiot. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Never mind. I'm ready."

"Hold up a sec," he interrupted, suddenly looking wary. He shifted uncomfortably, one hand moving to rub the back of his head awkwardly. "I wanted to give your mom something."

Huh?

"Why?" She blurted, without thinking. She paused, peering up at him, taking in his awkward stance, the unease in his expression. Clearly he wasn't good at gift-giving. "I mean, what did she do?"

He let out an impatient sigh. "She took care of those dog bites. And she didn't ask a million annoying questions." At that he gave her a pointed look, crossing his arms over his chest. She flushed, effectively chastised.

"Sorry! It's not every day that guys march up our doorstep with gifts for my mom." Okay, she realized after the words came out that maybe that sounded a little too...suggestive. Ew. Michael and her mom? EW!

"It's not every day that a lady I don't even know makes me breakfast and takes care of me." He responded, almost under his breath, a flicker of some emotion momentarily taking over his features. That look effectively killed her train of thought; for a moment, she forgot about Michael the hardass grown up. He was only a few years older than her, after all. So much responsibility had been dumped on him at such an early age. He'd been forced to grow up fast, without the luxury of having a parent guiding him through the steps, helping him when he made mistakes. Her mother recognized that; she understood what he was going through. And she was probably the first person in this stupid town that had shown him any kindness; she didn't know that he was a pure elemental, that he was dangerous. She didn't care. She looked at him and saw a kid in way over his head, and she'd helped him the best way she could.

Becca stepped back into the house, opening the door wide. "Come on in. I'll go get her."

Michael hesitated. "I thought she was sleeping?"

She made an impatient noise, tapping her foot. "Yeah, well. She had a rough night. I think this will cheer her up a bit. Come on, you look like a dork just standing there like that." She pulled off her jacket, kicking off her shoes before heading to the stairs. After another pause, he heard him step inside, closing the door softly behind him.

She took the stairs two at a time, hurrying across the small landing to her mom's room. Knocking softly, she eased the door open quietly. "Mom? Mom, you awake?"

She knew she was still asleep; she could sense it. But it was sort of a habit to ask. Becca slipped into the room, leaving the door open behind her. Her mother had closed the blinds, keeping out as much sunlight as she could so it wouldn't interfere with her sleep. She sat gingerly on the side of the bed, putting a hand onto her mom's shoulders and giving her a gentle shake.

"Mom? Wake up."

She rolled over, making a few unintelligible noises. "Hmm?"

"Do you remember Michael? The...older boy, who stopped by awhile ago, looking for his brothers?" She nodded sleepily, her eyes still closed. "He's here to drive me over to their house. But he brought you something." At this she slowly peeled her eyes open, and even in the darkness Becca could make out how bloodshot they were, rimmed in red. "Oh, mom..."

She sat up in bed, rubbing a hand briefly across her face. "Rough night. Don't worry about it, sweetie. What about that boy? The one with the ridiculous ponytail, right?"

Becca snorted, nodding her head. "That's the one. He wants to give you something, to say thanks for taking care of him. I think."

Her mother blinked. "He's a good kid. You know that, don't you?" She put a hand against her daughter's cheek, brushing back a few strands of hair. "Don't be too hard on him."

Not exactly sure what to say, Becca just nodded her head. Damn. Her mom saw right through the bullshit. Maybe she was a fifth.

"Just let me get semi-presentable and I'll be down, okay?" She pushed away the covers, getting up to head to the bathroom.

When her mom closed the bathroom door behind her, Becca got up and left the room, heading back down the stairs. Michael was still in the front hall, holding a potted plant in his arms and looking completely out of place.

"You brought her flowers?" She asked, hopping easily down the last few steps, smiling despite herself. It made sense; he was an earth elemental, after all.

"Why is that funny?"

She dropped the smile. "I don't know. I mean, earth is kind of your thing, so it's kind of..." God, why was he always so mean? It completely threw her off. "I don't know. It just...seems fitting, that's all." He just stared at her, waiting for her to get to the point (even though that was the point) so she gave up.

_Don't be too hard on him._

Yeah. Easy for you to say, mom.

"You can come in, you know." She gestured to the kitchen. "They look kind of heavy. Here, you can put them on the counter." After a moment's hesitation, he followed her, setting them down carefully in the space beside the coffee maker. Becca didn't know much about flowers, so she wasn't sure what kind he'd were pretty, whatever they were; pink and already in full bloom.

"I didn't want to wake her up," he sighed behind her, his arms back to being crossed over his chest. "I would have just left them on the porch."

"No, this is better, trust me." Becca insisted, leaning over to give the flowers a closer look. She inhaled, enjoying their soft, sweet scent. "What are they?"

"Carnations." He said it like it was obvious; she could practically feel him rolling his eyes.

"Not all of us own landscaping companies, you know." She shot back, tracing one of the pink petals with her index finger. "They're nice. I bet she'll love them."

"You Merricks certainly start the day off early," her mother's voice sounded behind them, cheerful and warm despite her obvious exhaustion. She made her way into the kitchen, wearing fleecy purple pajama bottoms and a baggy old university sweater, looking completely at ease. "Don't mind me. Comfort always comes before fashion in my book."

Becca inwardly face-palmed. "This is what you call presentable?"

"No." She pulled at her sweater, drawing emphasis to the giant holes it was sporting. "This is semi-presentable."

"I didn't mean to wake you..." Michael started, his voice coming out softer than Becca was used to, though it still managed to contain enough of his trademark sternness.

Her mother waved a hand absently in the air, having a seat at the table. "Nonsense. What can I do for you?"

Becca had never seen Michael quite so uncomfortable. He looked like this was the absolute last place he wanted to be. But it had been his idea! She wasn't about to interfere. She pulled up another chair and sat, giving him what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

He gestured toward the flowers with one hand. "I just wanted to say thank you. For helping me out before." Shrugging, he tucked his hands into his pockets, watching almost nervously when Becca's mom got up and moved toward the counter.

"They're-"

"-Pink carnations." She let out a small laugh, stroking the flowers softly. "A mother's flower. You're good."

He blinked, taken aback. He'd probably expected her to be as plant-savvy as her daughter. "Yeah. They're usually considered a symbol of motherly affection." He shrugged, looking uncomfortable again. "I thought they would work."

She looked up at him, giving him a warm smile. "Thank you, Michael. They're perfect."

His cheeks turned pink and he cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing to Becca for assistance. She gave him the thumbs up. "Yeah, well. They don't need a lot of water, but make sure they get lots of sunlight. They should last up to three weeks, even in this weather." He paused. "Carnations are tough."

"Just like mothers?"

He nodded, his lips twitching into an almost-smile. "Yeah." He looked at Becca again, all traces of awkwardness gone. "We better get going; Nick might be good at math, but he's not quite so great at multi-tasking."

"Right." Becca stepped up to give her mom a quick kiss as Michael headed back to the front foyer. "See you later, Mom."

Her mother followed them to the door, looking a great deal happier than she had...Well, in a long time, really. "You know," she started, Michael pausing on the porch while Becca pulled her shoes back on. "I have the weekend off. I would love it if you and your brothers came by for breakfast in the morning." She glanced at her daughter and smiled knowingly. "I know Becca would love it, too."

"Mom!"

Michael let out a small chuckle, shocking Becca into silence. She'd never heard him laugh before. "That would be great. They'd appreciate a break from my cooking, that's for sure."

"Alright then. I'll see you all tomorrow morning. Don't stay out too late." She gave a little wave as Becca hopped onto the porch, closing the door softly behind her. Michael was already halfway down the driveway so she had to scramble after him, nearly tripping on her shoelaces.

"Hey!" She called when she reached the car, opening the door to the passenger side. "Does this make us, like, family now?" She was kidding, mostly. But there was a part of her that filled with happiness at the thought. It would be nice to have brothers. Though she wasn't putting Chris in that category. That would just be weird.

"Just get in the car." Michael responded, back to his usual no-nonsense self. But she thought she saw the corners of his lips turn up in a smile. She hopped in beside him, pulling on her seatbelt with a snap. He pulled out of the driveway and started down the street.

"Your mom's nice." He said again, sounding a little surprised.

"Thanks?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying. Try not to take her for granted."

"I never take her for granted!" She declared stubbornly. "I love my mom." The car slowed to a stop at an intersection and he glanced over at her.

"Becca," he started, his eyes suddenly full of that emotion she'd seen before, on the porch. Now she could recognize it as a mix of different things. Sadness...And longing. He missed his own mother. "Everyone who has parents takes them for granted." And then he turned away, easing the car forward.

Becca sat quietly for a moment, mulling over his words. Michael was right; people always took the things that they had for granted. They never truly appreciated them until they were gone.

"Thanks." She broke the silence, turning her head toward him. He'd rolled his window down, letting one arm dangle freely.

"For telling you to appreciate your mother?"

"No, stupid!" She sighed, rolling her eyes and giving his shoulder a light shove. "For giving her the flowers." She paused. "For appreciating her yourself."

He didn't say anything; they just drove in silence, past the fire station, down Chautagua until they reached the big blue house at the end of the court, three sweaty brothers heaving bags into the truck in a steady rhythm.

"It's about time!" Gabriel called, dropping one of the bags he was holding. "We had to unload half this crap twice. Nicky sucks at this."

"Shut up. It's not my fault you're too dense to know how to count for yourself."

"We would have counted," Chris was arguing, a bag of mulch slung across his shoulders, "but we had you to do it. You're supposed to be a math genius, aren't you?"

Michael cut the engine and they got out slowly. "Hey," he called, glancing at her over the roof of the car.

"What?"

His lips pulled up in a rueful grin. "Welcome to the family, kid."

_Fin._


End file.
